A Rather Lovely Thing
by Colours Doyle
Summary: There is a force too obscene, too horrific to quantify with the vulgarity of that feeling one gets when one accepts love above all other things. Above speech, above conversation, above touch, above recognition of said feeling. But I would have done anything for him, for that awful man. Anything, except love him. Bane/OC
1. Prologue

A Rather Lovely Thing

He was called Bane. That was really all I knew about him. I knew he was dangerous; more dangerous than anyone the world had ever seen. He was beyond the spirit of a dictator, beyond any thought of war—no weapon compared to his strength-no man compared to his intellect—Bane was a machine like no other.

His theme was set to drums, his strut was intimidating and his eyes did more to the sanity of his victims than the pain his hands could ever inflict upon them. And so he did upon me.

Pain is always something bearable, something that can be tolerated for extended periods of time. But misery—misery and depression is what always gets to the best of us. And loneliness is what cripples us, our own personal reckoning, as Bane would have put it. He always put things in a revolutionary context. No matter how much he stood with evolution, the natural order of things, he certainly gave promise to the destruction brought upon by revolution. That's what gave him the power to take control of Gotham City, the dark, demented power of a man that was not_ insane_, but of a man who's heart was lonely and who's mind neglected all emotion save for satisfaction and disdain. And what was I but a mere piece in his unconscious mind, a gnawing plague begging for a touch, a whisper, or a damn glance. A part of his conscious mind that he knew and saw and feared, but why Bane feared me I do not know. I did fear him though—my, did I fear him—and he knew it, used it to his advantage to over come me and the bond that grew between us. Time, though, severed that bond and I never wanted to see that man ever again.

Although we never touched, never kissed, never held each other, there was something ultimately there that neither of us was particularly fond of but grew comfortable with. But comfort is a strange and silly thing when one compares it to that man, a man incapable of most human emotion. And I learned to reflect that characteristic and hide myself behind him when my real emotions decided to appear. We were a fine pair for a very short period of time before I ran away from him. That was the worst mistake I honestly could have ever made, if only for my own loneliness, I burned him and that hurt me more that I had imagined. But I always had to run, it was in my nature.


	2. Introduction

_Oh dear, thank you so much for all the favourites and alerts and reviews. I wasn't expecting this much of a response! Thank you! Please continue to tell me how you like it so far! This is going to be a rather short chapter as it is merely an introduction of sorts. I should have the next bit up very soon, probably by the end of the night._

* * *

I was an artist in Paris when he found me in the hotel room above his, barely grasping onto what little life I had left. Bane had been disturbed in his sleep by water leaking from my tub onto his pillow. Instead of calling maintenance he investigated himself. That early Tuesday morning he saved my life. He pulled me out of the claw-footed tub and stitched my arms with fishing string and a fine needle and stayed with me until I awoke.

Our confrontation was temperate, his first words to me were simply; _"Why?"_

I told him I was tired and bored and alone and I was no good for anyone around me. He was silent for a moment as I watched him. His eyes drew me in so quickly I barely noticed his mask. It frightened me and intrigued me, I didn't really know what to do before he asked me what my name was.

"_Sara." _I said quietly and I saw his eyes smile, the corners wrinkled, they widened slightly and I swear they became softer in the light. I am uncertain as to why they did such a strange thing when I told him my name, but it was so lovely and I haven't seen it since.

And since then he took to watching me and I to him. He was interesting to watch and as an artist I had to draw him, while he made sure I didn't try to kill myself again. There was a kind man in there, I knew it—I saw it. But when I ran away he reverted back to his previous state of anger and tactical bete noir. I ran away to Gotham City to live with a friend in my sudden bereavement. Luck may have had it though, as my friend Devon was later killed by some arduous gang he owed money to. I took it then upon myself to retreat from society and devote myself to my art. And luck may have had it as well that my old, dear friend would find his way to Gotham within the next four years.

This is my plea, this is the cause of my distain, my misfortune, my insanity; I loved that man more than anything, but that did not mean that I stood by his side through everything he did. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I will tell you my story and then you will understand my love for the man called Bane, my desire for death, a trial of honest components—let me begin:

My name is Sara Blake.


	3. Chapter 1

I will not speak of my upbringing, as it is unimportant and holds almost no sentimental value. But I will say that I cannot remember most of it and for that I am frightened. I came to the conclusion that I either have a horrible memory (which serves probability at a ninety percent) or I've repressed some awful memories from a traumatic childhood. Either way it doesn't really matter for I left home at eighteen for art school. I graduated with a bachelors in Fine Arts and moved to France, but in all my honest contraction, I was nothing more than a rat running from student loans.

In France I hit a couple of hitches and got myself in more trouble. Not with the law, I assure you ladies and gentlemen, but with a rather angry and drug riddled gangster. You see, I witnessed him murdering a fine old woman in our apartment building's hall way. He saw me and I him and before I knew it he was after me as well.

I ran from him for nearly half a year before I met a man who set me up with a temporary living situation in Paris by a small underground group of professionals who specialized in protection for extended periods of time. All expenses paid for, all I had to do was stay in my room. That's when my spirits began to drift from what little I knew of my soul. It was hell living in such a small room, day in and under and around and out. I wanted to leave but they made me stay. I tried leaving by other means and well, you know how that ended.

And so I met Bane, who took it upon himself to watch over me. I didn't know why he was under the protection of the French, but I just figured he needed a place to stay while things cooled down around him. Something told me he was a very important, if not a soon to be aggressive contribution to society.

That night he stayed in my room and watched me sleep. I had gotten quite good at feigning sleep growing up with intrusive parents and nosey siblings, so much so I nearly became expert, even Bane couldn't tell the difference.

That night he watched me and each night I watched him when he finally fell asleep in the chair next to my bed. When the sun rose I would make myself breakfast and read a short story by Hemingway until Bane woke himself up. It was a fleeting, sudden moment, almost like he was jumping out of a dream into reality. I often wondered what he dreamt of.

"How do you eat with that on?" I'd ask, but he'd just stay silent and look at me like I was an idiot. He didn't tell me about the mask's purpose until the next day. After that I dropped asking him pretty much everything. He sounded so broken.

"It stops the pain." He said. And that was all he said. I figured if he wanted to tell me something about himself, he'd do it himself. But that didn't stop the aching desire to understand him. That second night Bane fell asleep before I did, even on my bed (the basterd) but I was content in reading until I couldn't keep my eyes open. I fell asleep on the desk, slouched in my chair and my face planted on the surface.

I dreamt of an awful excursion between Bane and myself and he ended up killing me with a mere flick of his wrists. In consciousness I can't understand how this was so surprising to me at the time as you all have seen pictures of the man you know very well how...brawny and...masculine he was. It is a wonder how I was hardly afraid of him before that. But through that dream I put it into perspective and I let my subconscious tell me exactly what I was getting myself into.

I awoke suddenly by the fright of Bane's actions in my dream, my eyes opened to see those dark brown eyes just _watching_ me. I jumped slightly at that thought and curled into myself trying to forget my dream and everything else.

"Oh so it's okay for you to watch me in my slumber but not for me to actually watch you?" I looked at him like his question meant nothing of significance to me or anything else in the world and I understand now that this was exactly how to deal with Bane. To acknowledge him but not salute him and certainly not to answer him.

* * *

"Tell me about your family." He told me one morning, fingering the crisp pages of a novel I'd yet to get my hands on, I think it was Fitzgerald or perhaps Le Carré. Bane was very fond of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy for some reason, he once read the entire book to me on a Thursday when I was down and very upset with myself. His ability to comfort was conflicting to his menacing and rough textured physicality and nature.

"I'd rather not." I told him after several moments.

"And why is that, little one?" When I was younger I usually hated it when I was given faux names but with Bane's I felt it was appropriate given our extreme dissimilarity in height, size, and tone. Also, I felt it gave the air around less tension and gave the both of us the lightness we needed.

"I don't remember a lot of it. I mostly remember my schooling and that was it."

"And your interests in your studies?" He asked.

"Art and history, science too."

He pondered this for a moment, "History is a very troubling subject, isn't it?"

"I dunno," I said, playing with my fingers like I used to do when I was a child, "I think it really depends on how you look at it. Some say that we've all learned from things we've done wrong in the past...but like they always say: history repeats itself...I just find it all interesting. It's fascinating the way history really does repeat itself." I looked out the window and nearly sighed, thinking about everything I could have done had I possessed the gull and the funds. I would have made something of myself. But growing up I was a bum and even then there I was, living out of someone else's pocket.

"I could help you, you know." I looked over at him, the small bit of his face I could see from the side was emotionless, the rest was corroded by the shadow the window sill cast.

"Help me with what?"

"I can help you become better than this; a starving artist under illegal witness protection, only twenty-two years old and already losing hope in the world. I can help you to climb to the top."

I sat for a moment, considering to myself exactly how much bullshit Bane was full of before going back to my finger twaddling.

"No thanks."

* * *

_Please let me know what you think! I really love hearing what you all have to say. And I do take all your suggestions and opinions to heart, so try not to crush it. ^.^_


	4. Chapter 2

_This chapter is going to be rated M for mature content i.e. sex. If you don't like it I supposed just skip over it. And please, continue to let me know what you think._

* * *

The first time Bane touched me after he pulled me from the bath was a shocking realization as I fumbled to remember how I managed to go from falling asleep on the floor to waking in my bed under the comforter. My hotel room was completely empty for the first time in days and it felt so cold without that man's simple presence next to me. But I shook myself of all that thought and slipped back into the covers. Not before stripping myself of all clothing, I'd always felt more comfortable that way anyway.

Sometime during the night I wrestled with the blankets and won, throwing them off my upper half and curling myself into a ball facing the wall. I had woke up slightly at a chill throughout my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself and saw Bane sitting on the side of my bed, an air of nonchalance about him as he smiled slightly at me with his eyes. That crinkle, I had hardly seen it but I was fond of it, so very fond of it I was. I stretched one of my arms up to his face and hovered above his mask, too terrified to touch it but wanting to so badly that I did anyway.

It was cold, and hard just like all metal was and it was unnecessary. I wanted to rip it from his face, I wanted to see the outline of his chin, his lips, his nose. I imagined he was beautiful.

"What do you look like under there?" I had asked quietly, forgetting my place.

"No more appealing, I promise you." He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to mine and covered it. To my quiet dismay his hand enveloped mine like a child to an old teddy bear. His hand was so warm, I swear I had never felt anything more comforting.

Now when I told you that we never touched I had lied, but who doesn't really lie at first, especially about something as delicate as this? For all you know I could be lying about all of this, I could even be lying about my name. But let it be known to the jury that I was not the one to initiate, but 'twas Bane! Of all things, _he _was the one to seduce_ me_!

He let my hand go and it fell from his cheek to his throat, I traced his jaw line with my nails, not a single whisker of scruff to catch on. His hand fell to my cheek and he moved my other arm away from my chest and I grew suddenly, unavoidably self-conscious under his eyes.

I nearly jumped at the low vibration I felt on my palm from his throat when he said, "A very lovely thing, you are, dear Sara." I was even more shocked by his use of my name. He had never said my name in front of me, it sounded so very strange in his voice.

"Say my name again." I told him, my curiosity and arousal took over my fear of how he would react to my order. Yet he said my name and he said it again and again as he crawled on top of me, my sight blurring slightly due to the unthinkable act that had been happening presently.

The pain of him inside me was like being tortured, an unbearable violent thrust ripping me to pieces. But he went slow, something I was not expecting him to do. And slowly, in turn, I got used to him. And slowly again, I came so inexplicably close to falling in love with him.

I bled and I had bruises on the insides of my thighs and around my arms where Bane held onto me throughout our closeness. And he held me still even after as I shook in my bones, he wiped my face clean of those little tears that sneak out of the corners of your eyes when you try to hold in cries of pain. I quit my blubbering soon and watched Bane intently, wondering what was going through his mind, what possessed him to take me like he had.

That was when Bane told me of his parentage, his history, but he did not tell me his real name as I knew he really wasn't named Bane, only an infidel would seriously think that someone's mother would name her child a noun that was synonymous to misery.

And although he told me these things I shall not share them with any of you at this time, everything he told me was told by choice and told in heart and that if I shall ever speak of one detail may I die a thousand deaths until the end of time for revealing such a tale.

"I want to know so badly." I whispered to him, cursing myself for forgetting my inhibitions and laying naked with this man.

"There is not much to a face, Sara."

"Of course there is, Bane, of course there is." Then without warning he took the mask off, a surprising burst of excitement riveted through me at I touched his lips. Bane was then completely silent, he seemed so weak and dilapidated after he removed his mask I would have felt sorry for him if it wasn't for his size. But he was so...beautiful, and so muscular, his cheek bones could cut me if I wasn't too careful.

He sat up on to the edge of the bed as I memorized every muscle's bulge, every scar (for there were many), and every freckle (for there were so little). I wondered farther past the galaxy of imagery and imagined how he got each and everyone of those scars. I imagined him in a war, as a soldier. I know he got most of them in the Pit, but there was something uncertain about it all. Almost like I didn't want to believe him, like I didn't want to believe that he had grown up in such a horrid place. I wanted to believe he was bitter for the same reasons I was, but he held in too much. There was so much more anger and misery and anguish hidden inside him it was hard to figure what emotion he was speaking out of. But I kept to myself and I kept my emotions minimal, for which I think he was grateful and partly the reason why he didn't cut me off like he had done with so many others. I feared him and his hands, but I loved to watch him and the way he moved, the way his eyes changed with his mood. I feared him and loved him.

Now tell me, is that anyway to keep a healthy life?

* * *

On the record player I set the needle to a Moonlight Sonata. That morning I woke up alone, like I had before. I figured Bane had gotten enough of me the day before, after all I was always told I was impecunious in matters of closeness. I floated around my room of several minutes, picking up various clothing items and strewn bits of trash. Just as the song hit it's beautiful crescendo I turned it up louder and twirled about my bed. Simple, fleeting moments like that helped me get my mind off what had happened last night and the ever present bruises that ached with every step. Soon though the song ended and for some reason I curled myself into a ball and sighed.

I heard a knocking at the door, a strong echo of three deep raps over and over again. I covered my ears and tried to ignore it, I swear I even heard my name being called but I suffered the pain of my legs no more.

The both of us were emotionless basterds. The kind of people that make you people thank god for your soul.

The record put itself on repeat and I heard the knocking once more before a crushing clunk erupted behind me. Bane had broken the door's lock and walked in quickly. When he saw me on the floor he stood there for a moment. He then walked over to the record player and turned the volume down and without a single word left the room and slammed the door behind him. It was then that I realized I had the music up too loud and that's what brought him to my room. I pushed myself up on the edge of my bed and oh! ladies and gents, if I ever laughed before, I was in no equal at that moment.

* * *

I waited two days before going to see Bane myself after he failed to arrive at my door within that time. He didn't answer. I think I stood beside his door for about twenty minutes before deciding to just turn the handle and fate would have it, it opened. Inside was a complete wreck. Like small, unaccompanied children with large dogs as play thing occupied the room. The bed had no sheet, there was writing and holes in the walls. I saw Bane in the bathroom with his head in his hands. I watched him. He looked so sad when he saw me, but then he grew angry. He pushed me into the wall, out of his way, and walked to his desk to write. I watched him for a brief moment before letting myself out of his room. I didn't care if that man had saved my life, I was not about to let anyone treat me in such a way.

On the way back to my room I tried sorting out all the shit in my mind and before I reached my own door I had decided it was time that I ran away.


	5. Chapter 3

After my friend Devon was killed I moved onto a nice piece of land with a four story house for a very low price for the awful location just outside of a small suburb of Gotham City. I lived there by myself for four years. It was a majestic piece of architecture. A home for a contessa or a small duchess' doll house brought to life. But on September 2nd, 2012 Bane appeared in my foyer in the middle of the night.

I was roused from sleep by the heat, the sheets stuck to my skin and I cleaned the sweat from my forehead with them. Downstairs I got myself a glass of iced tea and planned to read outside on the back porch until the sun rose. But as I walked around the corner (and this should be of no surprise to any of you) I stopped abruptly at the sight of a large silhouette by the window. The glass slipped from my hand when my mind failed to tell the muscles in my hand to keep ahold of it and it clattered onto my foot then to the floor. I jumped quickly behind the corner and waited several moments before peeking out from behind the wall. I paused and by my own heart, it was him. It was Bane.

"W-what do you want?" I stuttered, trying to hold in my fright, my excitement, and my terror. I meant to keep my distance from him, but he stepped closer to me. "How did you find me?"

"Oh dear Sara, I never lost you." Bane sounded different, stronger, harsher, cold almost. But I still wanted to hug him after he said that, but something in me made my feet run the other direction and I clamored up the stairs like a coward. He followed right after me, his feet stomping on each step like a monster after a child.

I managed to get a good distance from him but I swear we ran through the entire house, all the while making an awful racket. But he quickly caught me, wrapped his arms around me in an inescapable rein.

"It is rather foolish to think you can run from me." He said into my ear, holding on so tight I couldn't will myself to even move.

"Let me go, Bane." I said, struggling to breathe. I think he realized how tight he was holding onto me and quickly released me. I breathed heavily, pushed myself against a wall tightly, as far from him as I could get.

"Why do you run from me?" He asked and I was surprised by the gentleness of his voice, how much he sounded like a small child with genuine curiosity, but hurt.

"You scared me, I...I'm sorry." I told him. "But what are you doing here?"

"I am here for Gotham. You shall understand soon; Gotham will be at war. This city will soon be no longer."

"What the hell are you talking about? Bane..."

"You must choose wisely the side you will take."

"Bane, I refuse to be a part of this."

"You're either with me or you are against me, that is all."

"Bane, you know it isn't like tha—" I was cut off by a loud knock on my door. I figured it was the police as I did have a very weary elderly neighbor who has called the police on me before. There was another set of knocks and I turned to Bane who watched me with careful and menacing eyes, "You have to leave. They cannot find you here." He nodded silently and began for the window as I rushed downstairs.

"Miss Blake! Gotham City PD! Are you in there?" In the city directory I was listed as Sara Blake, as you know and as I told you. But as you should know I am not beyond lying and I had to make myself anonymous in your eyes, as the jury. In this court I am bound by God's law but God's law does not do a very good job binding me. My real name is Sara Bishop, if it really means anything to any of you.

I opened the door quickly to see two men, a young handsome man and an older man who I now know to be Detectives John Blake and James Gordon. Although no relation between the young officer and myself was ever brought to light, it was just a name I took.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" I asked politely.

"We got a call about a domestic disturbance, lady said she heard yelling and banging coming from your house." Officer Blake said.

"Oh, she did it again. I swear that old woman is paranoid beyond what's rightfully reality." Suddenly there was a loud bang upstairs, like a lamp dropped off a nightstand. "Goddamnit Bane." I said to myself quietly, not hardly above a whisper.

"Do you live alone, m'am?" I nodded at Detective Gordon, "Would you mind if we took a look around, just to make sure you don't have a squatter in the attic or anything." I nodded and let them in, silently praying to some god, any god willing to listen, that Bane got himself out without making any more of a mess.

The both of them looked around for ten minutes and reported a vase that had broken into pieces on the third floor in my bedroom but not a squatter in sight. While they were looking I put the kettle on and insisted they stay for tea and biscuits. They ended up staying another hour and I surprised myself at how sociable I was being and how much I really enjoyed the both of their company. Although I would laugh at myself later, the thought of me being social had to take two bored cops checking for burglars in the middle of the night. I laugh at myself now, but in reality that is what saved my life a few months later.

* * *

_Again, please continue to let me know what you think! I love you all._


	6. Chapter 4

_I fear I may have to inform you lovely readers of the story that I've taken of TDKR to make it understandable as you read this story from now on. I have sort of mixed the comic Bane as well as the Nolanverse Bane together and used TDKR plot as well. Bane can remove his mask as, in the comics, it only feeds him anesthetic (thereby stopping the pain & giving him the venom from the comicverse) If you've never read the comics there's really not much different than the movie other than that. Also, I've removed Talia from the story not only because I plainly just don't like her character at all but also because I felt like giving her Bane's story was an awful copout on Nolan's part and I wanted to give Bane that history back. Also I'd like to clear something up that won't be cleared up in my limited narration of Sara, that the reason why Gordon accompanied Blake along to the disturbance scene was because he happened to bump into Blake when he got the call and Gordon asked to tag along for a ride back to his apartment. There! All cleared up! Please, please enjoy and please continue to review, I love it so much when you all write me long ones that really give me a perspective on how this story is being perceived and so far it is going exactly how I'd hoped! Thank you so much. And enjoy!_

* * *

Please let me go back to that night, though, when Bane appeared suddenly in my home. After the two detectives left, when their bellies were full of tea, Bane appeared again in my bedroom.

"I want to apologize for the vase I broke on my way out." He said, his hands together behind his back.

"Is that the only reason you came back? To apologize for a fucking vase?" Bane just looked at me. I always forgot he hated rhetorical questions. He stared at me for a long time and I at him. We held that stare until I looked down and sighed. "Please leave, Bane. If you are going to try to convince me to side with you on what ever it is that you're doing, just leave. I want no part of it."

I had began to grab paint brushes and rolled out a blank canvas to start a new oil painting.

"And what will you do when Gotham perishes? Will you stay in this house, a home fit for a family of twelve, and paint to your heart's content like you have always done while the rest of the city struggles for their lives?" Bane knelt down to my level, a clean air of condescension about him.

I looked at him straight and told him:

"Yes. It is what I have always done and shall continue to do so. So if you'll excuse me." I nodded toward him and he stood. "You can go burn Gotham until it's ashes, burn it to your heart's content." I said and smiled sarcastically as he walked away, grunting quietly at my words. Bane was a mysterious creature but at that point I knew what he was planning to do, obviously not to an exact prime detail but I knew him and I knew he was not going to let this city survive.

Within the minute Bane was gone. I had sighed and clinched my jaw, I remember this because I was so frustrated that I nearly began to cry and clinched my jaw to stop myself. Bane had never made me cry, I wasn't ever going to let him. He still hadn't made me cry up to the moment he died, but I will get to that later.

I had looked down at the white canvas and began to sketch the only thing on my mind. Of course you can guess my subject, and my only image I had with the model was an image I had to create with my eyes closed and his name in my ears.

* * *

I stayed home after that. But at home I knew I wasn't safe but I had thought that if I locked myself in my bedroom, no one could get to me there, not if I armed myself. I held up in my bedroom for several days, no sleep, no food. I almost ran myself ragged in the meantime. One morning while I fell asleep I was shaken out of my slumber by a strong hand that I was not so against willing to break for waking me up. But I don't even need to say who it was because you all already know.

"Now is not the time for resting, little one." Bane said as he pulled me up from the floor, pulling my gun from me in the process, "You've no need for that now." I pushed him away while I rubbed my eyes and fumbled to get up. I looked at him and saw that he had taken his mask off. He knew, he always _had_ known, that I could not fight back with his mask off. Simply because he was too weak and as well because I simply could not resist him. And I hated that he knew that.

"Why aren't you wearing your mask?" I asked.

"I do not need it all the time, Sara." He said and just like our first time he took my face into his hands and kissed me. But this time he almost seemed too passionate. Too passionate for Bane. I wanted to question him about it but I could not avoid his lips on mine. And again we began to touch and it all went down from there, or up depending on how you look at it. Bane was slow and gentle yet there was that unavoidable pain of him inside and that he could not spare me. I had decided after that night that while I had not slept with many men, Bane was the most conscious and careful and passionate lover I'd ever had.

Bane was so passionate that night because he had "broke the Batman" as he put it. And I knew it had something to do with that. When he first kissed me so heavily I realized right there what exactly Bane was, and I understood it even more than I ever had and I accepted it. That night I could connect to him unlike any other time. The idea of his hands, the hands that ruthlessly killed hundreds were the same hands he loved me with. It was fucked up but then I honestly thought that I was really something special to him, the way he chose to keep me while the others he throws away.

And it made me love him even more.

* * *

_Let me know what you think!_


	7. Chapter 5

After our meeting I didn't hear a single thing from Bane for months, aside from a few dreams that I could have sworn were reality at the time, there was no sight of him near me or my house. And I never left, so I would know. But I was not completely in the dark. I procured a police radio in a random exploit and was always versed in Bane's schemes through the eyes of the police. Though it had been very fuzzy in frequency at that time, mainly just that day. I really thought nothing of it until I was given something quite peculiar.

Up in my room one evening I found a box placed on my desk. On the lid held a small note written in child-like hand-writing that plainly read _"You're going to need this." _I opened the box and inside was a rather small completely black ballistic vest, my best guess made of kevlar. I sighed and looked around for any sign of Bane, but there was nothing. This was my sign that I needed to get off the island as quickly as I could but I wanted to see Bane once more before I did. I wanted to tell him where I was going in case he didn't get killed through whatever it was he was planning on doing. But when I walked out through the streets everything was a disaster, there were holes in the streets, fires, people running around yelling, some even in orange jumpsuits who eyed me with their lust and their guns. I ran back inside and slid my vest on and concealed it with a coat. Didn't want anyone thinking I was important, now.

It took me hours, but I was finally pointed to a direction where I could find Bane. "Yeah, man, just go to Main, he should be in that small building right behind the city hall." I was suspicious of the man's directions but I went anyway. Inside the building there was a man dressed in shabby military garb with bright blue eyes with a few alike men around him.

"How can I help _you,_ darlin'?" The blue-eyed man had asked, his tone disgusting me. I wasn't used to those types of gestures and leers and tones as I hadn't been out of my house in four years. It is very funny how shutting yourself out from the world for so long can take such a toll on your ability to interact with regular humans but with Bane it was like we were never appart.

"I was told I could find Bane here." The man looked to his counterparts then back to me.

"Now what's a sexy thing like you wantin' with a ugly thing like Bane?" I stepped back. I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself, you know, in the way we always seem to do when our confidence drops and we become uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" I asked as the man nodded to two of the other men who then grabbed me by my arms. I struggled against them and prayed that they only wanted to shoot me and not rape me. But it is always funny how praying never really proves itself a resourceful alternative in situations like this.

The blue-eyed man walked toward me and grabbed my face in his palm.

"You can't get away, so stop struggling sweetheart." I ripped my face from his hands and kicked his shin as hard as I could. "You fucking bitch!" He grabbed me by my throat and yanked me from the two men's hold. I dropped to my knees and he raised his handgun to my forehead. Right then I figured I probably shouldn't have even left the house. And right_ then_ I suddenly remembered I'd left the tap on and cursed myself, my next water bill was going to be outrageous. I felt the tip of the gun touch my forehead and I closed my eyes quickly.

"What's going on here?" I heard the curious voice of Bane spout from behind the man. I nearly crumbled to the floor with relief right there. _Pray to a god and he shall appear._

"This bitch thought she could—"

"What did you call her?" Bane walked toward the man who instantly stuttered and looked down. "What exactly were you planning on doing to this young girl?" The man only stammered, "Well, I can only imagine what you had in mind." Bane punched the man who fell to the ground in a clump and he failed to move after that. "Come here, darling." Bane offered his hand and I took it quickly. He led me to a small room, shut and locked the door behind him.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me, little one. I swore it to myself long ago that you would not die, by your own hand nor anyone else's. Though I am surprised you left your house, after all you haven't left in four years." I imagined him watching me those four years and my insides dissolving into the pit of my gut. He had to have seen all those breakdowns, he had to. "I told my men not to harm or touch you in any case if you were to turn up. But I can see why they were confused." Bane fingered the blond wig I wore and slipped it off, my natural hair spilling out from it's held spiral.

"I came to see you. I...got your gift."

"Oh good, I'm so very glad. It fits well I presume? I altered it myself from a SWAT officer I killed a few days ago. I'm glad I remembered your measurements." I paused momentarily. My measurements? He remembered my measurements? "Wearing it now, I hope?"

I nodded and sat in a chair to consider if I should tell him that I was leaving. If I didn't then maybe I could be free of him, but I really didn't want to be free from him. No, gentle jury, I wanted him with me for the rest of my life. Just him. Just Bane. Not the mercenary, not the League of Shadows, just the kind, natural Bane that I knew he could never be. Perhaps we could have played a game of cat and mouse for the rest of our lives, oh how stubborn we were with each other.

Bane knelt down and grabbed my hands. "What do you say then, little one? Are you with me?"

I smiled slightly and took my hands from his. I reached up to his mask and twisted the small lever that unhooked his mask and removed it. I set the mask on the table and held his face in my hands.

"If I am to be with you," I paused, "I must know that you and I will both make it out of this alive. After you fulfill your father's legacy, I must know."

Bane grabbed my hands and took them into his. "I promise I will keep you alive, Sara."

"No, Bane, I need to know that you will be safe too."

"I cannot promise you that." I shoved his hands from mine and walked toward the door. Bane grabbed my arms from behind and slammed me into the wall. I let out a small groan and he kissed me so swiftly I nearly lost my socks. But I pushed him off me, I was having none of that, no matter how much I wanted to have it.

"Bane, I'm leaving the city." He looked hurt and turned around quickly to put his mask back on, "Please don't come after me." I said to his back.

"Foolish little one. No one can leave the island, not for the next three months."

"And what do you plan to do in the meantime? Pillage and plunder?"

"I plan to show the world it needs to pay no attention to it's authority, it only corrupts them further into a rabbit hole that has no end."

"And what happens in three months?" I asked.

"Gotham sets itself on fire...To it's ashes." Bane said simply and I could tell he was smiling, but now I was not so very fond of that crinkle next to his eyes.

* * *

_Please continue to let me know what you think, beauties._


	8. Chapter 6

There is a poem by W. B. Yeats called "Among School Children" where he asks the question: How can we know the dancer from the dance?

When I read this poem as a senior in high school I honestly had no idea really what that last line meant until I met Bane. It was quite simple; it is with form and function that while the dancer dances he is both the dancer and the dance. Bane helped me see this as he was both the destroyer and the destruction of Gotham. Inside him was everything. And inside me was a discernible riddle of whether I act or am acted upon and this is connected to the thought of whether I love or I am destined to love. But I know you don't particularly care for that—not at all probably. But I just wanted to put that into perspective for you that I understand it just as little as you do.

Bane once told me that no one cared who he was before he put the mask on, since then everyone has feared him or hated him and never really saw him. But he wore the mask only to give him anesthetic from the pain and the drug the kept him going. He only took the mask off for me. And I took mine off for him.

* * *

Three months had passed and I was sitting in my house drinking tea spiked with rum and reading. That had become a common activity of mine in those last weeks leading up to Gotham's bombing. I was never really one for theatrics and there honestly wasn't really much I _could_ do about it. One small girl against Bane? No matter how much history we had I could not convince him to stop all the nonsense, so I didn't even try. Would you have?

At around six there was an obnoxious rapping at my door. "Sara! Open the door!" I recognized him as Bane's Lieutenant, so I opened the door quickly. "The war has started, Bane needs you off the island."

"What? Where is he now?"

"He's in the city but—" I didn't need to hear anything else after that, I grabbed my coat, not even bothering with shoes, which I later regretted, and pushed him out of the way. He ran after me but I still kept on. "Bane has ordered me to take you off this island, if I don't do that he'll have my head."

"He'll have it for what? Twenty minutes before the entire city blows?" I pushed him back, "I'm going to see him and you cannot stop me!"

And I ran as fast as I could, rocks and glass and gunpowder and snow coating the pads of my feet. I had to stop several times just because my lungs couldn't take all of that running but I had finally gotten a block away and had to sneak my way around the jungle of battling men into the back of the city hall. Though I was able to break through one of the side doors with an exceptional amount of ease, my guess due to my heightened adrenaline but as I ran through the building I skidded to a stop at an explosion that flew past that blinded me momentarily. When I rubbed my eyes clear I saw the Batman rush toward me and grasp my arms asking me if I was okay, but I didn't answer him. I had to find Bane—I had to find him. And then I saw him, on the floor, limp...

I pushed myself away from the Batman and ran over to Bane, crumbling at his side.

"Bane. Bane, come on, move, please move Bane." I pushed and shook him and beat on him. "No, goddamnit, you fucking—NO!" I screamed. "Bane, please be alive you basterd, please move." My body was tired and shaking, my feet were numb and my throat was dry and cracking and Bane was dead in my waking sight and I could do nothing about it.

I looked back quickly and I didn't see anyone around me. I think at that point I slumped myself onto him and forced myself not to cry, having my frozen fingers to clutch his bleeding ones and holding on as tight as I could. I had just imagined him jumping out of whatever trance he was in to embrace me and trace my face in his hands and tell me, "You are still a rather lovely thing, my little Sara." But, he did not.

It was unbeknownst to me that there were SWAT officers around me that began pulling me off Bane and as they pulled me back I realized it wasn't until that moment that I had never felt so alone in my life, I felt so emotionless that I hardly fought against them. Bane was not a benevolent being, he could never will himself to be such a thing. But since no one treated him that way—

* * *

A woman in the back of the court room stood up, a woman in her mid-forties with a young baby in her arms.

"That monster deserves no mercy!" She yelled over the large court room, "My husband was a police officer—he was killed by Bane's army of criminals, now my son have grow up with no father!"

Sara looked down, water forming in her eyes. She looked back up to the woman and spoke quietly, "Then we are both victims. We both lost someone we cared about, you must understand." Sara spoke very quietly then, almost shy, like a small girl, "Your son may have to grow up with no father but it is up to you to make sure he knows that his father died for the people and the city he lives in, his father was a hero, m'am."

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_Please let me know what you think! Also, this is my second to last chapter, I THINK. We'll see!_


	9. Chapter 7

_I must say that there seemed to be some dislike to the fact that Bane was killed, but I really was just sticking to the movie. After all, there was no way he survived Selina's blast from the bike. I felt like I have to say that before this last chapter started. And I'm not sure quite yet about anything I'm going to do in the future, pretty much depends on how much of a response I get from you beautiful readers! And I know this is quite short, but you know me. ^.^ Please review?_

* * *

The officers took me away violently, one started beating on me. But then they stopped when I figured they should have taken me to hell with them. Officer Blake had held the men off and took me to the police station with the Commissioner and there I stayed for the past month, alone in a cell to face that bitter coldness of truly knowing that Bane was gone. I will not lie, I broke down several times, bawled my eyes out, completely, until I was so dry I had jack rabbits hopping across my stomach.

And this is why I've sojourn here, quiet and tired and starving so that I could get my chance to tell you my story. I can only hope that you understood that no matter how much I loved him, I had no part in his crimes, and that the pain I've felt is ill-minded in everyone's eyes but my own.

Thank you all for listening, ladies and gentlemen. That is..._all_ I have to say.

* * *

There was an eerie silence in the court room when the jury came back from their rather short discussion. It was the kind of silence described in Edgar Allan Poe stories, a silence that scraped and screamed and clawed at the insides of everyone in the room. And finally a woman stood with a paper in her hand at the microphone.

"As a jury of twelve we have sat and heard out Miss Sara Blake's plea and hereby pronounce her...not guilty of any accomplice in Gotham City's terrorist crimes by the man called Bane."

Sara cupped her hand over her mouth to hide her massive smile as cameras flashed and several people cheered.

* * *

"Here are your belongings Miss Blake, one black coat, one knit hat, a passport, a wallet, and one cell phone." Although Commissioner Gordon was not in charge of retrieving a past inmate's items he felt especially keen on returning Sara Blake's processions. "What do you plan to do now, Sara?"

"I think I might go back to France, get back into painting, I think I may take a boat across the North Atlantic...I cannot dwell too long on this or I may never come back." Sara smiled sadly and slid her coat on over her shoulders.

"You won't need that coat, girl, it's Spring time now." Sara laughed at how silly she had been to have forgotten. She embraced Gordon tightly and thanked him in a small whisper for saving her life so many times.

On her way out the door Sara turned her cell phone on and dialed a quick number when she was out of sight of the police station. The phone rang six times before being picked up in silence.

"I'm a free woman."

"_That's what I hear." _Sara smiled, _"Did you really mean all those things you said?"_

"Of course I did."

"_Even all those observations?"_

"I meant every word, love."

There was a chuckle on the other end. _"I'm at the pier, I'll see you in a few."_

Sara caught a cab and quickly made her way to the docks. She walked around for five minutes before she stumbled upon a man in a gray shirt and a ball cap pulling a rope from a large sail boat's anchor. She rubbed her hand along his spine and he stood up straight and turned around. He was a tall and muscular man with scars on his hands and neck.

"Ready to set sail, little one?"

Sara smiled brightly and nodded, not saying a word.

* * *

_Like I said, depending on how much of a response I get I may very well write more to this! Please let me know!_


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